Miss Ghost
by savedatreez
Summary: Sam is confronted head on with his inner demons and decisions by none other than the ghost of the woman who had ruined it all for him: Ruby. A song-fic written to Don Henley's Miss Ghost.


**Summary: Sam is confronted head on with his inner demons and decisions by none other than the ghost of the woman who had ruined it all for him: Ruby. A song-fic written to Don Henley's Miss Ghost. **

**Rating: Teen for adult themes and language. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural of any or the characters in it nor do I own the song or lyrics to Miss Ghost. **

**Characters: Sam and Ruby**

**Spoilers: Yes, there are spoilers. The story picks up right after the episode Two Minutes To Midnight so if you haven't watched that yet, I suggest not reading until you do! **

On a misbegotten, moonless night Sam stumbled through his door. It creaked and screamed from his sudden drunken force, slamming up against the fragile wooden mansion wall behind it. This was a suitable manor to squat in. The ancient, dusty manor was walking distance from the bar and away from civilization everyplace else. Its shingles were falling to the ground quicker than bullets from the heavy rain and he was certain there would be water at least three inches high in the basement. Not that it mattered anyways. He wouldn't be staying here long. It was just a place to scowl at and kick like a dog, a place to brood.

He groaned, disgusted with his circumstance and soaked to every pore when floating from the bedroom came a moaning and a sigh. It echoed eerily, sending shivers down his spine that were strangely familiar… Sam looked around suspiciously, taking out the gun he had tucked between his jeans and lower back. He stepped slowly, painfully forward, the floor shrieking under his weight. Sam listened closely for the phantom sound again, only hearing the furious storm outside. "Had too many,"he muttered, "It's just the wind."

He studied the table, his eyes rolling over the old ashtray, a humble bowl of wood caked in dust and cobwebs that it was now a part of the table as much as a leg would be. There was even a single cigarette on the side. His eyes lazily made their way in front of him, taking in a massive stone fireplace. Sam noticed a few logs and licked his lips, aiming (though still very drunk) and shooting the wood. The bullet caused a small explosion, lighting the fireplace immediately. The wood cackled and snapped a sound noticeable but nothing could block out the fury of the thunder.

He found himself pondering the moan from upstairs as he stared into the fire. He knew he recognized the sound, for it was almost seductive in nature. He furrowed his brow, trying to conjure of the intelligence he had once sober. Sam picked up the cigarette, looking at it as if it was foreign. He took out his lighter, thinking it might do his nerves some good. Dean always said he wasn't the best guy to be drunk. Sam hardly remembered being drunk but always the hangovers. Judging by tonight's intake, he would be intoxicated for a week. He turned to his right and noticed a liquor cabinet. Sam strolled over and helped himself to the scotch. He smirked, reckoning it was as old as him. He reached in further, snagging a glass and pouring himself a good stiff drink. He downed it, dust and cobwebs all without a care in the world. He needed to compose himself. He needed time to think.

He placed his gun on the table near the master's chair, black leather that looked like it was sheathed in sin. Sam sat down, putting up his feet on the ottoman. He laid back further, his head spinning from the alcohol. No sooner had he settled down, the moaning came again drifting through the silence like some otherworldly violin_._ Sam smashed his cigarette into the ashtray, alert and frustrated as he grabbed up his gun. The last thing he wanted to do was deal with a haunting at this hour. Sam bounded up the staircase and went slippin' and slidin' down the hall_._ He flung open the bedroom door and dropped his gun to the floor, dumbfounded. Sam had been around the whole wide world but he was not prepared at all for his uninvited visitor and unsuspecting host.

It was shadowy in the room but Sam recognized the silhouette. Ruby smirked devilishly as him, sitting on the dark intricate foot board. She was only wearing black lingerie, tight underwear and bra that did wondrous things to her cleavage. Ruby stared up at him with one smoldering black eye, the other hidden behind her perfectly, soft chocolate curls. She had no stab wound from Dean in her gut, only a smug smile and a dangerously sexy twinkle in her eye. "Hey Sam," she mused softly, red lips barely moving.

"Well, I see you've made yourself a home. Good evening, Miss Ghost," he answered. Ruby was more beautiful than ever and he felt just like a kid, commencing to trembling when he thought of all the things they did. Images of their first night together flashed through his mind. His crushing, demanding lips and aggressive hold on her curves. Her hitched breathing and fingers wound so tight in his head his scalp throbbed. The other times were just as passionate. She was soft and warm just like she had promised, giving him a little piece of heaven while he lived in hell. Ruby tilted her head to the side, standing up and slaughtering over to him, coming close.

Sam closed his eyes, swallowing hard. She was still soft and warm. It took every fiber of discipline he had not to take her in his arms once more. He looked down at her, skin as pale as marble, lips as red as blood. Never in a million years did he think he would see her again. Surely, she should be gone for good. Ruby stood on her tip toes, coming so close to his lips he could _almost _taste her. "I'm happy to see you Sam," she breathed seductively.

"Why are you here?" He asked tenderly, his eyebrows furrowing in conflict.

She moved her tender hands up to his neck, stroking his skin, giving him goose bumps. "Shhh.. Sammy. Don't worry about it.." She answered, closing the gap between their lips. Sam kissed her willingly, moving a hand behind her head to pull her mouth in further into his while his other lifted her up around him by her inner thigh. Ruby kissed him with ardor, her legs wrapping around his waist immediately. He growled, his hands unhooking her bra by instinct. She undressed him at the same time, kissing and sucking at his bare skin. They were already sweating, their desperate want burning like fire. Sam threw her down on the bed, his weight crushing her. Ruby merely smirked, closing her eyes as he indulged himself into the black…

Hours later Sam leaned against the wall, standing as he watched Ruby. She looked so lovely lying there all stretched out on her back. Ruby was awake, bare chest rising and falling deeply, breasts full and ample. She pointed out a leg, moving it back and forth though the destroyed linens. He furrowed his brow, watching her. He was no longer drunk, not even really buzzed. He could think now, remember not just the pleasures Ruby gave him but all the pain. She had betrayed him, made him make this biggest mistake. Now the world would end. He was the one strung one here on temptations old rusty rack. Even though she was a treacherous bitch, she was his at one point. She was his to touch and feel, to kiss and whisper to in the middle of the cold nights. In the wee small hours is when he really did miss her the most. _I confess it. I have missed you, he thought. _

Ruby chuckled, feeling his eyes on her like they were his hands. She extended a smooth leg in the air teasingly, "You're staring Sam.."

He shook his head, swallowing. Sam muttered, "Sorry," under his breath, sitting in a wooden chair that faced the wide window. The storm continued to rage on, the rain never letting up. Sam knew it was because of the coming apocalypse. It was funny in a really fucked up way, actually. Ruby, the demon who had led him down the highway to hell was here in his bed, her luscious body wrapped in the sheets. Sam closed his eyes, flinching slightly. It wasn't her who had made him start Armageddon. It was him.

Ruby sighed, a sound ghostly and seductive as she slid out of bed, wrapping a thin sheet around her curvy body. She helped herself into Sam's lap, gazing up at him. "You know you can't fight the Devil Sam. "

"What?"

Ruby sighed, stroking his face lovingly but her words were condescending. "You're such an idiot. You're going to say yes, leap into Satan's prison and hope you can take back control?" She laughed, genuinely amused with his plan.

"Maybe," he said with a cold tone, "but I have to try."

"_Oh you have to try_," she repeated mockingly. "Just like you had to try to save the world. Bang up job so far."

Sam growled but didn't move her.

She smiled a little, "Oh and don't forget the demon blood. Gallons, Sam. Feel like a monster now? Just wait until you take a shot of_ that_ cocktail."

"Get out." He barked, throwing her off of him.

Ruby smirked, waving to him with her fingers. "I'll see you soon Sam." She disappeared into thin air, leaving nothing behind but the sheet she held to herself.

Sam closed his eyes. Instead of crying like he wanted, he threw open the window and howled at the rain. He cursed the weakness of the flesh and his brute reptilian brain, the thing that hungered for power. That led him to this. Most of all, he roared at God. Why couldn't he care? Why did he have to abandon his children and leave them to suffer with the devils and angels? His beautiful world is going down the shitter and he couldn't give a damn. It was frustrating, depressing, and disappointing. God was never even there to listen to Sam's prayers before now, it seemed. They were just his hopes, dreams, fears, and secrets. But it was no big deal to God. _Bastard_, he thought.

He could finally scream no more, closing up the rickety window and stumbling back, soaking. He grunted, slamming his ass back into the chair, facing the ransacked bed this time. What dirty tricks the mind could play in the lonely dead of night when you bump into a faded love that wasn't right. Ruby was completely wrong. She was everything he didn't need but she was everything he craved. Way down beneath the surface, far beyond the light of day so many things lie buried deep. And they should stay that way. Everything had been trivialized in Sam's vain pursuit of happiness. He knew he just made everything worse. He gave up trying to figure out why Ruby was here, collapsing into the antique bed.

Sam slept deeply on the bed for several hours, his face crammed into the pillow and wearing nothing but his boxers. Suddenly he felt a tender finger stroking his left bicep. He sighed sleepily, moving slowly. He already knew who it was. Her smell was intoxicating and touches electrifying. Sam opened up an eye, asking gruffly, "What the hell do you want?"

Ruby smirked, black eyes shining like earlier. "I've come for you..

"You what?" He asked more clearly, turning his torso so his shaggy hair was out of his eyes.

"You heard me. You're going to hell anyway. Might was well take an escort."

He snorted, "You can go alone." Sam brushed her hand away, getting out of bed. He pulled on his jeans and tight v-neck shirt, popping his neck. Ruby still smirked, watching him get dressed. "I'm done." Sam confessed before grabbed his bag and walking down the stairs.

He reached the living room and there Ruby was, lying back in the master's chair. Ruby tilted her head to the side coyly, her brunette curls falling out of her face. She crossed her toned legs, one hand fingering the top of her low cut blouse. Sam watched her, in her trance for the time being once more. He followed her fingers to her cleavage, desperately wanting to taste her again. He swallowed hard. Even though she was going to take him to hell, she was advertising heaven.

Sam finally broke his gaze, strolling over to the liquor cabinet. He took out the scotch as she said, "I know you better than you know yourself. You've missed the demon blood. You're looking forward to it."

He huffed, "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh that's right." She said sarcastically, "You must've been fucking some other demon for her blood. My mistake."

Sam clenched his jaw, ignoring her. He could not allow her to get under his skin. It was game time. He needed confidence in himself if he was going to beat Lucifer. It was his chance to right his wrongs. He had to do this. It was his redemption. Sam poured himself a glass of scotch, turning to her, "But it's been so good to have you here," he said in the same sarcastic tone, "That I propose a toast: here's to seeing through you, miss ghost." Sam downed it quickly, walking past her and out the door into the new dawn of morning.


End file.
